Harem Online: My Party Is Full of Beautiful Celebrities-Chapter 9: Keep Going!

Before the dust even settled, Martin heard water splashing nearby.

Back at it again.

A shadow swelled above him. Tentacles hovered in the haze, tightening like spears held at the ready.

Then the forest behind him erupted. Steps. Claws. Growls. A whole wave of them, slamming closer like a stampede.

Martin didn’t turn. He didn’t need to. The boss’s slams had shaken the woods, and the wolves were flooding the treeline again.

At least fifteen wolves poured out of the trees behind him, then fanned out to his left and right.

He raised his shield and locked his stance, fingers crushing the handle.

Simple. Perfect Block one.

The tentacles hung in an orderly row through the dust, perfectly still, waiting.

The wolves hit first.

Teeth bit into his calves. Bodies slammed into his sides and back. The pain barely registered. The weight did. It nudged him out of position, stole his timing, tried to knock his shield line off-center.

Martin planted harder. Not for long.

He dragged his balance back under him and tracked the tentacle directly ahead, ignoring everything else. The shadow dipped. The air pressure changed.

Now.

He snapped his shield up.

The tentacle crashed down, and Martin met it head-on.

The impact drove his boots through the soil, shoving him back, but his guard didn’t break.

Two more shadows dropped on his left and right.

Tentacles slammed down beside him.

Dust billowed up again.

When it thinned, it revealed battered wolves barely clinging to a sliver of HP.

Every hit I take has to be chosen.

The tentacles didn’t strike at random. Even through the haze, Martin caught the rhythm in their shadows. A pause. A dip. The real drop.

He only raised his shield for the right hits. The ones aimed at his centerline.

The rest he let crash into the earth beside him.

So the lake boss can’t wipe the wooden wolves with one slam. Good. I don’t need to fight them. I just have to finish them off.

Martin kept his shield forward and edged toward the shoreline until damp sand pressed under his heel.

Lake in front of him. Trees at his back.

Less room for them to circle.

He shifted one step more, forcing the pack to bunch up instead of spreading out.

A wolf lunged at his hamstring.

He stomped his heel back, caught it on the shield edge, and drove the shield into its skull.

Shield Bash.

The wolf’s body snapped back.

Martin’s sword flashed once.

Sword Thrust.

It collapsed.

He didn’t chase. He didn’t swing wide. He only took the kills the boss had already softened.

Another wolf rushed his right side. Martin angled his shield, let it crash into the face, then shoved it off-line with a short twist.

Shield Bash.

Sword Thrust.

Down. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

A third and fourth piled in, trying to drag him out of position. Martin took two quick steps to keep them stacked in front of him instead of on his flank.

One thrust. Another.

Then a fifth, already wobbling from the last slam.

Martin punctured its chest and ripped the blade free.

Five wolves dropped in a row.

[Level Synchronization Active]

[Level Restored: 1]

[Time: 49:15]

[Damage Taken: 496]

Those numbers pleased Martin. At this rate, he could farm Damage Taken far faster than on his first run.

Each slam called more wooden wolves, and the boss either finished them or left them staggering

For a moment, the top spot in the Damage Taken category felt inevitable.

Minutes later, reality hit.

The boss learned too.

As another cloud of dust settled, Martin realized he’d fallen prey to his own satisfaction and the lake boss’s scheme.

Across from him, half of its tentacles had stopped slamming.

That side went quiet.

No fresh craters. No new dust.

The air cleared first, and an army of wolves waited there, perfectly still.

It wants me to move into the clear.

Then shadows swept over him. Martin looked up.

Two shadows overlapped.

Two tentacles lowered toward him.

What? But...

They slammed down.

Martin reacted instantly. "FORTIFY!" he shouted, raising his shield.

BANG!

DING!

Perfect execution. Perfect Block.

[You have perfectly blocked 200 damage.]

The wolves rushed in.

Martin turned his shield toward them, took a few steps forward, and tightened his grip on his sword.

I see it now. It outplayed me.

It’s limited too, just like I am in this dungeon. Tentacles, raw force, and it can bring wooden wolves... but it has angles.

It can only double-drop when I’m standing in the clear lane.

So it stops slamming on that side, lets the dust clear, holds wolves there, and waits.

The moment I’m forced to step into it, two tentacles come down.

"Crafty bastard. You got me this time. Fuck." Martin shouted as he shoved forward, chaining Shield Bash and Sword Thrust.

Beside him, the lake bubbled, almost like the boss was laughing.

Martin wasn’t. His stamina kept bleeding away in tiny cuts. Every shove, every recovery step, every block that wasn’t perfect.

He couldn’t stand still in a safe angle under this pressure. He was using every card he had to lose as little HP and stamina as possible, but sooner or later he had to move.

The moment he did, the shadows slid over him again.

Not one.

Two.

Then a tentacle avalanche descended.

Fast. No... it’s not.

The speed’s the same. It just knew I was about to step into its angle and fired early.

It’s thinking ahead of me... and my head already hurts from keeping up with all this.

Fuck... can I actually... do it?

As he hesitated, the lake monster slammed down on the wolves he’d left wounded for his HP and stamina refill, wiping out the only easy kills he’d been saving for refills.

Martin clenched his teeth. His shield arm burned, and his grip threatened to slip.

This is fucking impossible with so few skills.

For a heartbeat, his office flashed. The same routine. The same tired faces. The same route home.

Yeah, that was the office loser talking.

Martin sneered and shifted his feet, shield angled toward the overlapping shadows.

Two at once. Fine.

The air pressure dipped.

He didn’t flinch.

Now.

Martin snapped his shield up and caught the first tentacle dead-center.

BANG!

The second followed a heartbeat later.

He rolled the impact through his shoulder and met it on the same line.

DING!

Perfect execution. Perfect Block.

Before the tentacles could recoil, Martin stepped in and drove his shield forward.

Shield Bash.

The strike landed where both impacts had stacked, right at the bend The flesh shuddered. The motion stuttered.

For a split second, both tentacles went rigid, stunned and stiff like cords pulled too tight.

Martin’s mouth curled.

One of my delinquent friends had an octopus as a pet. He swore each tentacle had its own brain. Guess he wasn’t lying.

The stunned tentacles twitched.

Then the growling behind Martin... stopped.

He felt it more than heard it, the pack’s attention snapping away from him.

A wet tearing sound cut through the dust.

The tentacle jerked, and blood sprayed across the ground.

Martin’s eyes narrowed.

What did that?